


Late Night Conversations

by LeeBlack



Series: Pawprints in Gunpowder [1]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Sheriff Stilinski, BAMF Stiles, F/M, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski Knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-16 17:56:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeBlack/pseuds/LeeBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What does this have to do with my mother, sir?” he asked, finally taking a seat in the armchair across from the couch. </p>
<p>The Sheriff frowned. “I’ve never formally introduced myself, have I?” he asked, and Derek shook his head. “My legal name is Andrew Abraham Stilinski.”</p>
<p>“Your legal name?”</p>
<p>The Sheriff, Andrew, hesitated slightly before taking a large drink from his glass. “The name I was born with, which has caused me a great deal of trouble, is Andrew Abraham Winchester.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The gas station just outside of Beacon Hills had never been a good place for Derek to stop, particularly late at night. When he’d first come back, it had been Chris Argent and his entourage proving that hunters knew nothing of subtlety. Then, after McCall and his human friend Stiles had accused him of murdering Laura, he’d had someone key the driver’s side while he’d been in the station, picking up some food. Things had settled some after he’d killed Peter, and the past week hadn’t brought anything surprisingly ominous. 

Until, of course, he’d stopped at the gas station.

He’d been there less than a minute when a police cruiser pulled into the station behind him. And, as was his luck, it was the sheriff’s cruiser.

“Hale,” the Sheriff said, his tone cordial enough.

“Sheriff.” He immediately started looking around for an escape, but he paused when he noticed the older man’s hand straying toward the holster on his hip.

“I’m only here for a conversation, Hale. There’s no need to make this difficult,” the man said, deliberately keeping his tone even. “For what it’s worth, this won’t be the sort of conversation that Argent likes to have in charming places like these,” he said with a slight, tense smile.

Derek’s eyes narrowed and he leaned back against the side of his Camaro, waiting for the Sheriff to start talking. 

“The Argents and I have some unfortunately common history,” the Sheriff said, clearly uncomfortable. “Look, this conversation needs to happen somewhere more private than the gas pumps at the local Mobil station.” He shifted a bit. “We can talk back at my home. Or yours, if you’d like.”

Derek stiffened. “If you’re like the Argents, I’d rather you just take your shots now.”

That startled a laugh out of the man, and he tucked his hands in his pockets, away from the holster of his gun. “I’d actually rather have this conversation without any sort of violence. Will my home be adequate?”

The language was oddly formal, and that had Derek even more on edge than before. He stiffened, barely able to stop his eyes from flashing red. Finally, he nodded. “Will this take long?” he asked.

“No more than two hours,” he said. He hesitated for a moment before holding out a hand to Derek. “You’ve got my word that you will come to no harm during this conversation.”

“Nor you, I suppose,” he said, taking the man’s hand.

He grinned at that, looking eerily like his son. “That’s good to know,” he said. “I’m off shift at eleven tonight. You can come by anytime after that.”

Derek nodded once. “Your son?”

“Stiles is spending the night with Scott,” he said. “This conversation is going to involve things that I’d rather not introduce to my son just yet.”

Derek just nodded again, watching as the Sheriff got into his cruiser and drove away. Once he was out of sight, he filled up his car and headed off to his house.

…

Later that night, just after midnight, Derek made his way to the Stilinski house on foot. He’d decided that it’d be easier to go on foot. Less to be burdened with should an escape become necessary. He’d made up his mind about this conversation and changed it about a half dozen times before finally allowing his curiosity to win out.

He knocked once and waited.

It didn’t take more than a minute before the man opened the door. “Thank you for coming.”

Derek just shrugged and stepped inside.

“It’s my understanding that you’re the Alpha of the Hale Pack,” the Sheriff said as he shut and locked the door behind him. When he caught sight of the shocked look on Derek’s face, he smiled. “My son hasn’t spoken a word about his involvement in your world, but he’s not the first one in this family to deal with werewolves,” he said.

“How much do you know?” Derek asked. 

The Sheriff had changed out of his uniform, into a pair of worn black sweatpants and an old BHPD shirt with the letters faded and the collar worn thin. He was barefoot. “Enough to,” he said, stopping abruptly. “Would you like something to drink? This isn’t going to be an easy conversation.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then I hope you don’t mind if I indulge,” he said, motioning to the half-full glass of scotch on the coffee table. “Now, as I was saying, I know enough about your family that your mother never believed my promise that I was never a threat to you.”

Derek frowned. His wolf bared his teeth at the man, snarling at the potential threat.

The man held his hands out in front of him, palms up, in a gesture of peace. “I assure you, Alpha Hale, I intend no harm. Your late mother, moon rest her, was wary of my bloodline, and my refusal to submit to her authority as Alpha of Beacon Hills.”

“What bloodline? You aren’t a wolf.”

“No. Quite the opposite, in fact.” He sat down heavily on the couch. “My wife was born in a small town in Lithuania, and she came to the US to attend Stanford University. I was there for college as well. We met in one class, went out for coffee, and we were married eight months later.”

“What does this have to do with my mother, sir?” he asked, finally taking a seat in the armchair across from the couch. 

The Sheriff frowned. “I’ve never formally introduced myself, have I?” he asked, and Derek shook his head. “My legal name is Andrew Abraham Stilinski.”

“Your legal name?”

The Sheriff, Andrew, hesitated slightly before taking a large drink from his glass. “The name I was born with, which has caused me a great deal of trouble, is Andrew Abraham Winchester.”

The name immediately startled a snarl out of Derek.

Andrew, for his part, nodded before emptying his glass. “That would be why I changed it as quickly as possible,” he said. “My wife, Audra, was unaware of my true heritage, but she’d been keeping similarly important secrets.”

“Like what?”

“We both told each other that we were orphans, no family left, and that wasn’t really true for either of us. The Winchesters are a powerful clan, but they’ve always been small. I just had my parents and a brother, John. Audra’s family in Lithuania, however, is incredibly large, but she kept their existence a secret, even for a few years after we were married.”

Derek frowned. “Why?”

“She was a human born into the Vilkas pack,” he said, outright grinning at Derek’s sharp intake of breath. “I assume you’ve heard of them?”

Derek nodded. “They’re one of the oldest packs in existence. My mother used to tell me stories about them, about the European packs who were strong enough and powerful enough to have the hunters retreating and begging for mercy when they chanced to meet on a battlefield,” he said. “Even the humans are deadly.”

Andrew grinned. “The humans are frequently more dangerous than the wolves, since far too many people underestimate those that don’t have fangs and claws at their disposal. Audra didn’t often talk about her childhood, but she made sure that I knew she was able to kill me in a number of different ways,” he said. “She was almost as terrifying as your mother, but only if she put her mind to it.”

He smirked slightly, his mind pulling forward the few memories he had of his mother in a rage. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Peter was a pain in my ass. He’d keep up the charade of the polite, charming man in public, but he and I never got on. He’d always try to seduce Audra away from me. He’d come to her while I was on duty, speaking fluent Russian and telling her highly exaggerated stories of the old country, which she’d tell me later, giggling over wine that he’d gifted to try and win her favor,” he said.

“That sounds...exactly like Peter.”

Andrew let out a quiet huff of laughter. “So, I hope you understand my sentiment when I say that I’m sorry you lost your uncle, but I’m not at all torn up about his death,” he said. “And you are the Alpha now, unless I’ve made a mistake?”

Derek shook his head, his eyes briefly flashing red.

“I thought as much,” Andrew said before lapsing into silence for a few minutes. “The Argents,” he said with a slight sneer. “The Argents, in their infinite wisdom, are going to try and prohibit you from expanding your pack.” 

Derek growled quietly before frowning. “You don’t agree?” 

Andrew shook his head. “I never really agreed with the teachings of hunters. To my mind, as long as you’re not being actively destructive, and your Betas are kept under control, we can coexist peacefully,” he said. “I would also request that any Bites remain consensual, but I’ve made sure to keep my nose out of werewolf politics as much as possible,” he added.

“Why?”

“Audra was sick of the politics of it all. She told me enough to make sure that neither of us would end up inadvertently threatening someone, but other than that, we both wanted to be left alone,” he said. He shifted on the couch, sighing heavily. “I can’t promise much, but I will do my best to try to keep the Argents away from you.”

“Why?”

Andrew huffed out a tired laugh. “Chris Argent has always been a pain in my ass, and as much as I’d like to pretend at his innocence, he’s poisoned fruit. The Argents have been doing their best to establish themselves as the best hunters in this country,” he said. “My brother and his sons, however, have been dealing with much more dangerous creatures than wolves for years.”

“Like what?”

“The sort that I’ve done what I could to avoid knowing about,” Andrew said, suddenly sounding much older. “The events that have happened here recently are enough to catch the attention of my nephews, and I’ve been expecting a call from one of them for a while. I can keep them away, but if things get too complicated, I’m not going to be able to keep them away for long. They’re like moths to light when it comes to bloodshed, honestly.”

Derek scowled. “Is that a threat?”

Andrew shook his head. “A warning. John was always the trigger happy sort, and at least one of his sons took after him in that respect,” he said. “If they decide to come here, there’s very little I can do to stop them.”

“Winchesters are soldiers,” Derek said quietly, thinking back to the horror stories Laura would tell him and the younger children. “They’re trained from birth to shoot first and the merciful kills are done with just one bullet.”

Andrew nodded, smiling wanly. “Stories never really lived up to the reality. Most of the truth is worse than the legend.” He sighed. “Stiles knows his cousins, but I’ve done my best to make sure that he’s been deliberately kept ignorant about his family history. They haven’t spent that much time together, and there’s good reason for that. I never wanted him to be trained as a hunter. He never had the personality for it, and he is far too valuable for me to be willing to put him through the training. It’s rare, but there have been Winchesters who haven’t survived the training, and I will not put my son at risk like that.”

Derek nodded but didn’t say anything for a long moment. “How did your wife die? Was it, I mean-”

The older man shook his head, silently cutting him off. “Cancer. For all the latent wolf in her genes, she spent over two years dying from lung cancer,” he said. “She left a few things for me to pass on to Stiles when he was of age. I just never expected my son to have dealt with werewolves before he’d graduated high school.”

“You were going to bring him into this?” Derek asked, not sure whether he was talking about the hunter’s life or that of a werewolf.

Andrew shook his head. “Once word reaches her, Audra’s aunt is going to come here to teach Stiles everything she can. She’ll probably end up staying here permanently, but I can’t be certain,” he said.

“You can’t be certain?” 

Andrew laughed and refilled his glass. “Audra was a strong woman, and her family is much the same. I only met her mother once, and I am fully willing to admit that she was the most terrifying person I’ve ever met. There were tears shed,” he said, offering his scotch a watery smile. “Audra’s aunt was warmer, but she’s five feet and ninety pounds of terror and magic.”

“Magic?”

“She serves as Audra’s mother’s advisor, and she’s got enough of a Spark that it’s possible for her to turn a blizzard into a wildfire,” he said. “She came to me just after Stiles was born, and she told me that he was a Spark, and when he was old enough, she’d come here to train him properly.”

Derek was silent for a long moment, taking in that information.

After a few minutes, Andrew looked over at him, a knowing look in his eyes. “So you can understand why I wanted to be left alone,” he said. “My son is the offspring of a powerful clan of hunters and a human member of one of the oldest werewolf packs in existence, and he’s apparently inherited a maternal affinity for magic.”

“How many people know about this?”

“As of this moment?” Andrew asked. “Just the two of us. Your mother knew the extent of things, so I assume your father was aware as well.”

Derek hesitated briefly. “And what do you want me to do with this information?”

Andrew shrugged. “Whatever you like, as long as you keep it to yourself. My son’s life would be in danger if his heritage becomes public knowledge,” he said. “I won’t force him out of your world, but I won’t encourage him to be proactive in it, either. I doubt I can pretend to be ignorant about things for too much longer, but I would like to know exactly how long this has been going on, if you don’t mind.”

“My uncle Turned Scott against his will. Stiles has been at his side since then.”

“I’d had my suspicions,” Andrew said with a slight sigh. “Stiles takes after his mother more than I’d like. He’s not going to abandon his pack brother, and I’ve got a feeling he’s warming up to you, or he will soon enough.”

Derek scowled. “I’m not his babysitter.”

“And I’m not asking you to be,” Andrew said. “I’m just informing the resident Alpha as to the connection I’ve got to a foreign pack, and I’m also telling you that my son is much more valuable than he comes across,” he said. “Do not underestimate him.”

That had Derek nodding slightly. “I won’t promise anything.”

“I hadn’t expected it,” he said, standing up.

Derek followed him to the door and stepping onto the porch, watching the Sheriff with a bemused look on his face.

Andrew shrugged. “My only intentions today were to have a conversation that would reassure me that you weren’t going to instigate any hostilities,” he said. “I’m not well educated in pack politics, but I will try.”

“You’ll have some lenience, then.”

“Thank you,” Andrew said. “I’ll let you know when any of my family members or in-laws decide to come to visit,” he added before shutting the door and returning to his Scotch.

Derek stared at the door for only a few seconds longer before shoving his hands in the pocket of his leather jacket and making his way into the woods across the street. He hadn’t expected that conversation to have turned out the way it did, and he wasn’t particularly pleased with what he’d learned. Still, he mulled it over as he made his way back to his house, unable to determine the best course of action to take when it came to the two Stilinski men. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The answer, as it turned out, was to do nothing. The Sheriff didn’t seek him out for any more spontaneous and uncomfortably mind-blowing conversations, and Stiles kept his distance. For a while, at least. Derek suspected the human had been intimidated by the upheaval his life had gone through recently, and was taking advantage of a relatively uneventful winter break.

His suspicions were proven wrong when, in the early evening on Christmas Eve, Stiles parked his Jeep just in front of the Hale house and made himself comfortable on the front porch. Somehow he’d come just as Derek was coming back from a run, and Derek was planning on turning the young man away until he saw the forlorn look in his eyes.

Sighing slightly, Derek stopped a few feet in front of him and waited. Stiles would be the one to talk first. He always was. 

“I know you don’t like me or whatever, but I needed to get out of the house and I didn’t know where else to go,” Stiles said after a long moment of silence. He offered Derek a weak smile. “So, uh, surprise?” 

“What about McCall?” he asked, asking the question before he could think better of it.

Stiles shrugged. “He and his mom are visiting her parents in Sacramento for the holidays,” he said. “They won’t be back until the end of break.”

“And your dad?”

Another shrug, though this was accompanied with a poor attempt at hiding the way his face fell. “He’s booked himself on a double today, and he’s covering Lisa’s shift after that so she can stay with her parents for an extra day,” he said. “We don’t usually see each other much this time of year,” he added, almost accidentally. There was a heavy look in his eyes that gave away what he wouldn't - or couldn’t - say, until he ducked his head and toed at the bag at his feet.

Derek watched him almost warily, thinking back to the conversation he’d had with the Sheriff a few weeks ago. He couldn’t help but think it might be useful to have some sort of connection to a pack as powerful as the Vilkas pack, and, if he was completely honest with himself, he was curious to see if he could get behind the younger man’s mask. He’d seen a few glimpses when they were trying to track down the Alpha, and each time he’d caught himself wanting to see more. 

Besides, he could smell fresh Chinese food in the bag and he hadn’t eaten since that morning.  

“I brought food. And my laptop. I figured you don’t have working electricity or anything, and if you didn’t kick me out, we might, I dunno, watch a movie or something?” Stiles asked when the silence got too heavy. He shifted in his spot, not looking up from his bag, his scent getting stale as his discomfort increased.

“Why me?” he asked, the question surprising himself. 

Stiles was silent for a moment. “Why not?” he countered finally, standing up. He must have seen something in Derek’s expression, because he offered a small smile. “I know how much it sucks to be alone sometimes, and I thought you might want some company.”

Derek frowned. “I don’t want your pity.”

“This isn’t pity, asshole,” Stiles snapped. “I’m trying to be nice.”

That was a surprising admission, and Derek didn’t even try to keep the disbelieving look off his face.

Stiles sighed heavily. “Look, dude, lemme start over. I brought Chinese food and Doritos and cookies, and I’ve got like two hundred movies on my computer,” he said. “I can’t really handle being alone right now, so even if you decide to just lurk in the corner and practice your creeping, I just need to not be alone.” He looked up at Derek, an almost beseeching look in his eyes. “Please,” he added, his voice cracking slightly.

“Why?” Derek asked, the question coming out before he could think better of it.

Stiles shrugged. “I think too much,” he said quietly. “And I’ve done stupid shit when I’m alone and thinking too much.” 

Biting back on the urge to inquire further, Derek inspected Stiles for a long moment. He knew all too well what could happen when he couldn’t get his mind to shut off, though he hadn’t pegged Stiles as the type to self harm. Finally, after a long moment, he sighed quietly. “What movies did you have in mind?” he asked.

“Dude, whatever you want, as long as it’s not Lord of the Rings,” he said, standing up and following Derek inside. “Including Star Wars, every shitty SyFy movie that’s ever aired, and all of the really good comic book movies,” he said.

“Why is that not a surprise?” Derek asked quietly, but still loud enough for Stiles to hear.

“Yeah, ha ha, the geek has comic book movies. I’ve built up a pretty good collection of werewolf movies, furball,” he said, shooting Derek a shit-eating grin. “Do you want to start with _The Wolf Man_ or _An American Werewolf in London_?” he asked. “Oh, shit, forget that! I’ve got a bunch of really cheesy werewolf romances. _Blood Moon_ , maybe.” His grin got bigger. “Scratch that, dude, we can get through the entire _Twilight_ series, and you can tell me how much of it is bullshit,” he said. 

“I’ll break your thumbs if you even try,” Derek said, though the corners of his lips twitched up slightly. “Marvel or DC?”

“Marvel, most of the time, but I make exceptions for Batman,” Stiles said with a shrug. He smirked. “I hadn’t pegged you for a closet comic book nerd, Alpha,” he said in a sing-song voice.

Derek scowled, ignoring the slight chill that ran up his spine at Stiles calling him Alpha. “Just shut up and get the food out before I change my mind,” he groused good-naturedly. 

Stiles nodded and darted around Derek, quickly making himself comfortable in the living room as he unpacked the food and his laptop. Apparently he’d meant it when he said that he just needed to know that he wasn’t alone, since he didn’t so much as glance over his shoulder to make sure Derek was still there. 

Huffing out a breath, Derek headed over to the couch, doing his best to convince himself that he was only doing this for the benefit of securing an alliance between himself and the Vilkas wolves. Still, his mouth watered at the smell of beef lo mein and egg rolls. He motioned for Stiles to hand over some of the food. “I’m not watching Edward Norton as the Hulk,” he said.

“Good to know,” Stiles said as he cued up the first _Iron Man_ movie and nestled into the couch, already eating what smelled like orange chicken from his own takeout box. “Any objections to an Avengers marathon, or did you want to go luck of the draw?”

Derek grunted quietly, not saying anything as he dropped onto the couch next to Stiles.

“Dude, if you don’t cooperate, I am fully willing to turn this into an RDJ marathon, and it gets weird when you switch between Iron Man Downey and Sherlock Downey,” Stiles said, setting his computer up on the coffee table.

“Avengers are good,” Derek said, looking over at Stiles, who nodded.

“Cool. And Alpha or not, you’re not eating all the egg rolls,” he said, smirking as he looked over at Derek. His eyes glinted, almost glowing at the slight challenge.

Derek bared blunt, human teeth and flashed his red eyes at Stiles, who only grinned at the response and nestled back in the couch, making himself comfortable as he ate his orange chicken. Derek realized after the movie started that he was relaxing more now than he had for quite a while. And that, for a moment, he’d been playing with Stiles, and the human had recognized the behavior for what it was.

...

After marathoning through the entire _Avengers_ series and almost all the way through  _The Amazing Spiderman_ , Derek startled slightly when Stiles’ head dropped onto his shoulder, fast asleep. Struck suddenly with the memory of movie nights with his family, when he’d curled on the loveseat with Cora and Nick, the younger twins, and the two of them always fell asleep before the end of the movie and had to be carried to bed, Derek froze. This was too close to a once-familiar practice, and his gut wrenched with that realization. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath and keep his head about this. There was no reason to lose control over a few hours with one human.

Speaking of the few hours, he pulled out his cellphone and looked at the time. When he realized it was after midnight, he debated about letting Stiles’ dad know where he was. On shift or not, the man was bound to hear if his son’s Jeep wasn’t in the driveway at his house, and he’d definitely hear about it if one of the deputies somehow noticed Stiles’ Jeep parked in front of the remains of Derek’s house. 

He sighed, resigning himself to do the responsible thing, and decided to call the Sheriff to let him know. Regardless of the call’s outcome, it would be a wise idea on his part to keep up a decent relationship with the Sheriff, if only to put himself in a position that would make the Argents and other hunters less willing to confront him. They knew just as much as anyone how much trouble the human justice system could make for them, intentional or not.

Doing his best not to wake Stiles up, Derek edged off the couch, picking up Stiles’ phone from the floor where it had fallen about halfway through _Iron Man 3_. He cast a quick glance back at Stiles to make sure the human hadn’t woken up before making his way into the kitchen with the cellphone, where he could talk without the risk of waking Stiles up.

Stiles’ father was relatively easy to find in Stiles’ contact page, listed under the name Buford T. Justice. Curious, he looked at the other contacts that he’d recognize. Given the photo of a hammer and the name Toolemore, he assumed that was Jackson and Derek smiled slightly in spite of himself. He was willing to guess that Athena was Lydia Martin, respectively, while Scott and the Argent girl listed under Balto and Jenna, respectively. The only one he recognized after that was Fenrir, which, given that the contact photo was a black wolf that looked oddly like Derek in his full shift, he assumed to be himself. 

Though he didn’t remember ever giving Stiles his phone number. He’d deal with that later, unless it proved useful to have a quick way to contact Stiles. If that was the case, he’d get Stiles’ phone number as well. Knowing how quickly things could go to hell in his life, it would no doubt end up being convenient when he’d need to track Stiles down. Preferably before the human got himself hurt.

He paused, forcing that line of thought to the back of his mind, and called Stiles’ father.

The man answered after the second ring, his tone all business. “Stiles?” he asked. “Is everything alright?”

Derek was able to hear the tell-tale increased heart rate and the way the man swallowed, gripping his phone tighter when he didn’t receive an immediate answer. “Everything is fine, sir,” he said.

“Hale?” Andrew asked, his nerves becoming clear with that question. “Why do you have my son’s phone?”

“He showed up here a few hours ago and pestered me until I let him inside,” he said.

“Are you sure he’s alright?” Andrew asked.

Derek nodded slightly, not saying anything. “We spent a few hours watching every Marvel movie made in the past ten years,” he said. “He said this wasn’t the best time of year?”

Andrew sighed heavily. “Audra died on Christmas,” he said, his voice suddenly quiet and almost hoarse.

“Oh.”

“If he gets to be too much, send him here,” Andrew said quietly. “He’s crashed on one of the bunks before, and there’s room here if he needs to do that again.”

Derek shook his head. “He’s fine here for now.”

Another sigh and the squeaking of Andrew’s chair told him that the man was leaning back in his seat, probably rubbing at his temples and wishing for something stronger than coffee. “Thank you,” he said, though he said it in a tone that told Derek he was holding something back.

“Sure,” Derek said carefully, wondering what it was the Sheriff wasn’t telling him. “Is there something I need to look out for?”

“He has night terrors sometimes,” Andrew said, sounding almost reluctant to talk about it. “I don’t know how often they happen, but it’s not an uncommon thing when he’s spending the night in the crib here,” he said. “He doesn’t remember them when he wakes up, but if he has one, I’d appreciate you letting me know.”

Derek frowned, glancing back toward the living room, where Stiles was still sleeping steadily. Knowing he’d hear if anything changed, he turned around, leaning against the counter. “If it happens,” he said.

“Thank you,” Andrew said. “And if you need him to leave, I can always have one of my deputies pick him up.”

“Right,” Derek said, listening to Andrew bid him a tired farewell and hanging up. He ended the call and waited for a moment, listening to Stiles’ heartbeat and breathing, making sure they were still steady. When he was sure the younger man was still asleep, he headed back out to the living room. 

Stiles had sprawled across the couch and was snoring lightly.

Derek found himself watching the human for a moment, amused at the words and phrases that Stiles muttered in his sleep. His heartbeat remained steady as he spoke, and Derek took that as the signs that the human wasn’t going to have a night terror any time soon.

Now the question became how to entertain himself until Stiles woke up.

He turned his attention to the laptop, which was showing the end of _The Amazing Spiderman_ , with Andrew Garfield’s Spiderman having a touching moment with the father of his love interest. He watched until the credits started playing before quitting the program, absently looking at some of the more frequently accessed files on Stiles’ computer. 

It wasn’t surprising that a handful of them were porn, but he was surprised to find that Stiles had managed to get his hands on a scanned-in version of a rather extensive bestiary written in Latin. Not only that, but a large file written in a foreign language that Derek would guess was either Lithuanian, or a similar Scandinavian language. Given the runes that looked vaguely familiar, this was either another bestiary, or something similar to a Pack rulebook. 

Stiles muttered something and rolled so his head was half-buried against the back of the couch, distracting Derek only long enough for him to make sure he was still asleep before going back to looking through Stiles’ computer. With a few minutes of searching, he found about half a dozen similar documents, none of them written in English. Overall, it was the start of what seemed to be a surprisingly well-rounded library of supernatural resources.

Derek closed the computer and looked over at Stiles, watching the younger man sleep for a few minutes. Maybe there was more use to keeping him around than just as a link to a potential pack alliance, though he supposed only time would tell.

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally stumbled on SuperWolf on Tumblr and it caught my fancy, so I decided to give it a whirl. I'm not sure where I'm going with this story, or how long it's going to be, so I can't give any updating schedule.
> 
> What I can tell you is that the Derek/Stiles relationship will be something of a slow burn, as will the relationship between Castiel and Dean.
> 
> Other than that, enjoy, and feedback is always greatly appreciated!


End file.
